


If your friends could see you right now (your body’s taking over you) [repost]

by ratsauce



Category: Harry Styles (Musician), Louis Tomlinson (Musician), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Bondage, Bottom Harry, Daddy Kink, Degradation, Dom Louis, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Gags, Humiliation, M/M, Masochist Harry, Name-Calling, Post-Hiatus, Punishment, S&M, Sub Harry, Subspace, Top Louis Tomlinson, Unhealthy Relationships(not between L/H), Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 01:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17571503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratsauce/pseuds/ratsauce
Summary: Harry acts up in public and embarrasses himself. Louis has to correct that.





	If your friends could see you right now (your body’s taking over you) [repost]

**Author's Note:**

> I DELETED MY SHIT BY ACCIDENT! FUCK!! I could literally die rn I hate myself sm.  
> Fuck.  
> Anyway, title from [Body](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P7kW3Q46UUc) by Syd.  
> This was a monster! Almost 10k? SHooK! But here you go lads; I've been trying my hardest to overcome my personal stuff and put works out y'know, hope you guys appreciate? Let’s just assume that this is set somewhere in late 2016.

Harry is basically vibrating where he’s sat opposite Louis, bouncing his leg so much that the seat they’re sharing is shaking with the movement. Louis wants to grab him by the back of his neck and get him to  _stop_ , but there are too many people in the car with them, too many to notice how Harry softens right up when he gets his hands on him.  

They’re coming home from some awkward lad’s night out thing at Funky Buddha with all five of them, and Harry had managed to be a passive aggressive prat all night, starting as soon as he saw Zayn come through the doors. 

 _“What the_ fuck _?”_ _Harry_ _had_ _murmured_ _, sitting up_ _stock_ _straight from where he had been slouched against_ _Louis'_ _side._ _Louis_ _had followed the direction of his glare to find Zayn staggering over to the four of them, looking hesitant and a bit scared at the venomous glower_ _Harry_ _had fixed him with._  

 _“We invited ‘_   _im_   _. Didn’t_   _Louis_   _tell you?” asked Niall, but h_   _e’_   _d trailed off when he saw the betrayed look_   _Harry_   _shot_   _Louis_   _at the mention of his name._   _Louis_   _hadn’t even looked over at him, instead offering Zayn a wide grin when he’d come to stand ahead of the group. Liam, always oblivious to the drama, had stood with an excited shout and pulled Zayn into a warm embrace, patted him on the back_    _and went through all the necessary pleasantries of telling him how long it’d been._  

 _“Hiya, lad. Late as usual.” Niall greeted_   _,_   _after giving_   _Harry_   _one last hesitant look, standing to give Zayn a hug of his own. Zayn gives him a dry chuckle, mumbling some excuse about Gigi that had made_   _Harry_   _snort loudly._  

 _When_   _Louis_   _went to stand, though,_   _Harry_   _had made an affronted noise and frowned over at him before looking back at Zayn._  

_“Heya, mate, the fuck are you doin’ here?” he’d asked and he slid to the edge of his seat like he had wanted to stand. Louis had quickly fisted Harry's shirt where his hand had been resting behind his back and pulled the younger man backward: a wordless warning to watch it. Even Liam and Niall had looked at him with shock, but Harry had of course ignored it all and continued pushing._

_“What?  I thought this was a ‘lad’s night’? Who’s this stranger?” Harry  sneered, staring Zayn down with his special brand of intensity, making the  man squirm  under  the attention._

_“Enough,_   _Haz_   _”_   _Louis_   _seethed, and_   _Harry_   _had rolled his eyes and scoffed, throwing himself back into the chair with a huff._   _Louis_   _leaned towards him, pulling him closer by the fistful of_   _his_   _blouse_   _._  

 _“Make an arse out of yourself tonight,_   _Harry_   _, and you will regret it.” He’d muttered directly into his ear, draping his shirt tighter before letting him go, pushing him away slightly to see his body jerk._   _Harry_   _swallowed thickly and looked down, but his pout remained in place._  

They (except for Harry, who had stubbornly decided that he wasn’t moving) had made space in their circular booth, allowing Zayn to slide in beside Liam. They ordered drinks and Harry stayed quiet for the most part, and Louis had hoped that that would be the extent of his theatrics. Maybe Louis wouldn’t be as upset, if it had been, but he wouldn’t  _know_  because Harry had in fact continued his bratting as soon as he got his first drink in him.  

Louis isn’t the kind of man to prevent his boyfriend from doing something (outside of the bedroom,) but he’d had to stop Harry from drinking anything else when he’d seen how he was acting. He went from being eerily quiet one second and to unbearably loud and disruptive the next. He’d barely acknowledged Zayn’s presence, talking over him in conversations and singing loudly along to whatever song was playing whenever he would try to speak directly to him. Zayn, somehow more used to Harry's childish tantrums than Louis, had done his best not to enable him once he realised that he had no intention of acting civilised, but when Harry noticed that he was being ignored back, he’d decided to up his game. He’d started nagging Louis whenever Zayn talked to him: poking him, snatching his glass or phone out his hand, slapping his thigh, pinching his arms, kissing up the side of his neck. When Zayn had asked him about his music or touring, Harry essentially demanded that he take him to dance, pulling on his shirt sleeve and whining. Louis’d managed to ignore him, even when his blood started boiling at the obvious insolence Harry was displaying. 

Louis didn’t even fully understand why Harry was still having a strop over- over whatever he was having a strop about. He’s told Louis that he felt betrayed by Zayn’s exit, felt like he was leaving the friendship, not just the band. Louis' said- hell,  _all_  of them have said it, Zayn included, that that wasn’t the case. Following the string of interviews where Harry had either dodged or been a shit about every Zayn-related question, the two had been forced into an intervention-type thing where Zayn had properly explained himself. Things between had been good, or as good as they could be, for about a year before it went bad again. It had something to do with the fact that Zayn was writing a lot more and couldn’t hang out with Harry, Louis isn’t even really sure, but Harry was just  _angry_  at him. And it’s been years, now, for fuck’s sake, years of Zayn explaining and apologising like a broken record. He left because he couldn’t be himself, and he was sorry. He had to leave, the band’s demographic was stifling his creativity, he’s so sorry. He loved the band but not the music, it wasn’t their fault, he’s  _sorry_. He’s said it all so many times, only to have it fall on deaf ears. Harry was inconsolable when it came to him and Louis gave up on trying to rationalise with him about it. It’s never really been a problem that concerned him, or any of the other lads for that matter. To be honest, none of them (save for Louis) really knew that Harry was still sore about the whole thing, which is why inviting Zayn sounded like a good idea in foresight.  

But Harry had kept on his bullshit until way into the night, pushing and poking and prodding. Louis was bordering on livid, frustrated at how immature his spouse was being, but, surprisingly enough, it was Zayn who had snapped first, after Harry had started singing over him again. 

 _“Man, what the fuck_   _d’you_    _wan_   _t_   _from me? I don’_    _geddit_   _!” he’d yelled, slamming his glass of gin and tonic down on the table and turning full-body to face_   _Harry_   _, who’d clammed up at his outburst._  

 _“I don’t- I_   _dunno_   _know what you’re_   _talkin_   _’ about,_   _lad_   _”_   _Harry_   _had stuttered, clearly surprised about being called out, but he_   _’d_   _held his ground, folding his arms over his chest._  

 _“Fuck this,” Zayn had mumbled, shaking his head. He stood, looking at all of them individually_   _. “When you don’ ‘_   _ave_   _a three year old_   _taggin_ _’_   _along, maybe we can hang out.”_  

 _As Zayn started walking away, everyone had turned to_   _Harry_   _who had been sitting mouth agape, but as soon as he had eyes on him, he found his bravado and stood up, yelling, “Fuckin’ go ahead, then, leave. ‘s clearly all_   _y_   _our_   _good for!”_  

 _Zayn had flipped him off over his shoulder but he continued walking, getting lost in the crowd the further he got from them._   _Harry_   _watched him go, a_   _new,_   _weird emotion welling up in his chest that made him fall heavily back into his seat._  

 _“I_   _wanna_   _go home,” he had whispered to no one in particular, not daring to look up at any of them. Liam mumbled something about the night being ruined anyway, and_   _Louis_   _watched_   _Harry_   _curl further into himself as the realisation of what he did settled in._  

They’d packed up and gone home then, all of them in Niall’s car, with their security personnel flanking them front and back. Liam claimed shotgun, leaving Harry and Louis in the back. Harry looked ready to cry and somehow that sobered Louis up enough to snap him out of the rage that was building. How Harry had acted was in no way acceptable, but Louis had a suspicion that there was a deeper motive for his attitude. The man had looked embarrassed and a bit  _sad_  when Zayn left, like he wanted to say something to get him to stay.  

Louis decided not to say anything more to him or scold him in any way until they got home, to keep him from breaking down, but his silence was clearly having the opposite effect on Harry, who’s still shifting subconsciously. Every couple of minutes, his hand twitches like he wants to reach out for Louis, but when he remembers their current situation, he pulls away, bouncing his leg with renewed vigour and chewing on his lip like his life depends on it. Louis watches him, wanting desperately to talk to him, to pull him into his lap, to kiss away the wrinkles between his furrowed brows and ask him  _why_ , but no way in hell is that happening with Niall and Liam watching them awkwardly from the rear-view mirror. 

The car is tense and uncomfortable the entire way to Harry and Louis' house. Harry doesn’t look up once, and he starts bouncing both legs when Niall turns onto the road their house is on. He’s nervous, understandably so, so much that he’s shaking a bit when they finally pull up to the house. Harry essentially jumps out of the car as soon as it comes to a complete stop ahead of the house, leaving Louis to thank Niall for taking them out and bringing them back safely before he gets out himself. Niall nods at him before backing up out of the yard and through the automatic gates. 

Harry has their key so he’s let himself in already, the front door still open and revealing the darkness of the house because of course he hasn’t turned on any of the lights inside. Louis goes in and locks the door behind him, bending over to unlace his trainers and kick them off. Somewhere in front of him, he hears shuffling along with Harry's little stuttered breaths, and he shakes his head. 

“Turn the lights on, Haz, for god’s sake.” Louis sighs, straightening up to undo the first buttons on his shirt. A second later, the room is illuminated with a soft yellow glow, and when Louis looks up he finds Harry cowering by the wall where the light switch is, shoulders hunched. 

“L-Listen, I wanna-” Harry blurts when their eyes meet, but Louis shushes him, pressing a finger to his own lips as he steps towards him. Harry's eyes go wide where he’s watching Louis come closer. 

“I’m gonna go to the room, yeah?” Louis says slowly, deliberately trying not to startle him. Harry's watching him warily, but he nods, prompting Louis to continue. “I need you to get undressed, but leave your pants on. Come in as soon as you’re done. We’re gonna talk about your punishment.” 

Harry visibly flinches at the mention of a punishment, and he exhales shakily. With one last measured glance, Louis wordlessly walks away from him, ignoring the muted whine that comes from Harry. 

He considers his options as he takes the stairs and rounds the corner to the spare bedroom they use for scenes. He doesn’t feel nearly as murderous as he had felt at the club. In fact, he’d be happy to just talk about what happened and go to bed, but he knows that not penalising Harry isn’t an option. Harry knows he’s fucked up, and Louis pretending that everything’s okay will only lead to him to internalising the incident more than he has already. Getting punished feels like  _penance_ , Harry had explained to him. It makes him feel better when Louis hurts or takes something from him, and the praise he gets afterward is like a physical pat on the back to say  _all is forgiven_. And, while Louis understands that, what he really wants is to get into Harry's head and find out what made him act the way he did, but he knows he can’t do that without giving Harry what he wants, too. 

Louis decides on his course of action with a smirk. He’ll admit that he has a little bit of a sadistic streak in him, but Harry  _loves_  getting hurt, fucking thrives on it. Pain-based punishments aren’t actually unpleasant for Harry, unlike other people who hate the pain. He loves when Louis hurts him and degrades him, especially when he’s done something and he feels like he  _needs_  to be punished. Louis hasn’t been able to get a full read off him just yet to know if that’s the case, or if he just needs a metaphorical slap on the wrist, but for either situation he’s decided on what to do. 

He comes to stand ahead of the door, bolted to prevent visitors from getting in, and unlocks it. Their chest of toys is in the middle of the room where Louis left it and he goes straight to it, opening it up and pulling out bondage scissors, a small, black rubber ball, a matching black, heart-shaped [gag](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/619GMTzE5PL._SX522_.jpg), a bottle of lube, and lastly, a pack of multi-colour, skin-safe candles along with a box of matches. As an afterthought, he reaches for five newly procured coils of coarse, black rope before setting everything on the bed with a satisfied hum.  

He unbuttons his shirt fully before shrugging it off, draping it over the footboard. One of the few pillows on the bed is dangling a bit off the side, left there from his last undoubtedly rushed attempt at righting the room after its last use, so Louis just grabs it, setting it beside the bed so Harry won’t have to kneel on the hard floor. He gives the room one last once over before he reaches for the candles. They’ve never been used, still in their plastic packaging. There’s a small smile on Louis’ face when he breaks the seal and grabs the blue and green ones, because he’s a sentimental sap even when he’s planning on making his husband cry.  

He’s just taking a seat on the edge of the mattress when Harry finally comes in, naked except his briefs, head down and hands clasped behind his back. He’s visibly shaking, and he curses quietly when his eyes land on the toys lying on top of the fitted sheet. 

“Come ‘ere.” Louis directs, his voice loud in the still silence of the room. Harry flinches as he comes closer, and Louis can see where his bottom lip has gone white around where his teeth have been digging into it. He snaps his fingers to get Harry to look up and he does so with wide eyes. 

“Stop biting,” he says, nodding his head at where he’s still gnawing at his lip. Harry releases it with a quiet gasp, the flesh blooming red with the new rush of blood, “and get on your knees.” 

Harry's eyes drop to the pillow and he looks back up at Louis questioningly. Louis wrinkles his nose with a mixture of distaste and fond, and nods, watching as Harry falls to his knees gracefully onto the pillow without saying anything. He shuffles to make himself comfortable before he settles with his bum resting on his calves and his hands in his lap, a vulnerable look in his eyes when he glances up at Louis from under the hair that has fallen in his eyes. 

“Good, my good lad.” Louis praises, and he sees Harry's mouth twitch like he wants to start biting his lip again. Louis leans forward from his perch, pushing Harry's curls from his face so he can see him properly. Harry pushes into the touch subtly, makes a sound that’s too similar to purring. 

Louis clears his throat quietly before he speaks, “What I wan’ from you now is the same as always: complete obedience. You’re t’do as instructed, when instructed. Is that clear?” 

“Yes, Daddy,” is the whispered reply, followed by a heavy exhale through his mouth. His face looks so open where he’s staring up at Louis, so trusting. 

“Tell me the rules, little boy.” Louis demands softly. 

Harry nods, mostly to himself, before he swallows and drops his head to hang between his shoulders. “The safewords are yellow and red. Green is good, continue on. Yellow is for if one of us needs to slow down, red is stop completely and end the scene. ’m to use my safeword whenever I need to.” 

“Good. Carry on.”  

Harry licks over his bruised lip, continuing, “I-If I’m to be gagged, I’ll be given a ball to hold on to. I’m to let it go if I’m yellow, or throw it hard if I’m red.” He looks up at Louis, shuddering when he finds the man staring, unwavering with an expectant expression in his gaze. “I’m not t’come without permission, or speak unless ’s to word out.” 

He trails off, lowering his gaze resolutely to where his hands have been twitching in his lap. Louis tilts his head and watches him, but when Harry doesn’t say what he’s waiting for, he uses a socked toe to poke his thigh. Harry peers up at again him again with a confused expression, a pout settling on his lips. 

“You’re missing something.” He says quietly, keeping his voice levelled and gentle, as not to spook him. The younger man frowns before recognition dawns on his face, and he scrambles over himself to rectify his mistake. 

“Oh! Um, ‘m to thank you when you give me something, or compliment me?” he says, looking up at Louis for confirmation. Louis cocks a brow. 

“You asking me?” 

“No, no.” Harry rushes out, leaning closer to Louis' legs where they’re dangling next to him, “I’m to thank you.” 

Louis makes a dismissive sound in the back of his throat, but he palms Harry's cheek softly. 

"What happened tonight?" 

Harry whines on his next exhale at the directness of the unexpected question and he shoots Louis a panicked glance. Louis keeps his expression as neutral as he can manage and doesn’t say anything. 

The question hangs in the air between them for a few seconds before Harry's shoulders slump.  

"I don't- Fuck, Lou, I don'  _know_." Harry whimpers, sucking his lip back into his mouth, but he pushes it back out as soon as he sees the look Louis gives him. 

“I thought you and Zed were good.” Louis attempts, and Harry visibly bristles at the mention of his name.  

“Goddamnit- I thought so, too. But he just- just showed up there, like everythin’ was alright.” Harry tries to explain, looking up at Louis with desperation, like he’ll be able to read his mind. Louis assumes it works, to some extent, because he has the sudden realisation that tonight was the first time they’ve all been in the same place together. Sure, Harry has hung with Zayn, so have all of them. Louis' pretty sure that Zayn, Liam and Niall have gone to Peru together since this year. But the five of them haven’t gone out  _together_  in months, and it must have frazzled Harry for him to act out the way he did.  

He voices his suspicions, and Harry's features morph into a strange mix of relief and embarrassment as he nods. 

“And no one even told me, like.  _You_  didn’ even fuckin’ think to say anything t’me-” 

“Oi, watch it,” Louis warns, cutting him off. Harry whines and nuzzles his face against Louis' knee apologetically, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Lou, he must be  _so_  angry with me. What the fuck was I thinking,” Harry groans, his words muffled by Louis' leg. 

“None of that. Look at me,” Louis soothes, and when Harry looks up at him, his eyes are wet with unshed tears. 

“I’m so sorry,” Harry says, like he’s pleading Louis to believe him, but Louis knows, maybe better than anyone, how remorseful he really is. Zayn means more to him than he’ll ever let on, and how he treated him today is bound to haunt him for days, maybe even months. 

“I know, bub, and here’s what we’re gonna do.” Louis says, “You’re gonna call him-” 

Harry interrupts him with a startled sound, and he pulls away from Louis like he’s been burnt, opening his mouth to say something. Louis shushes him sharply. “ _You’re going to call him_ , tomorrow morning as soon as you’ve eaten and showered. You’re to apologise, and invite him over for supper later on in the week.” 

Harry's cheeks flush with embarrassment in the dim light of the room and he shoots Louis a pleading look.  

“Any objections?” Louis inquires, looking at him in a way that dares him to say anything. This isn’t a scene thing, it’s a life thing. It’s not something sexual or physical that Harry can opt out of by safewording, and he intends to take advantage of it. Harry's sorry, but he’s also proud, and if Louis left it up to him, he’d never take the steps to make it right with Zayn. 

They both know it, and Harry hesitates before shaking his head to say,  _no, no objections_. Louis offers him a toothy grin. 

“Okay. We can begin now. Do you have anything to say?” 

“I love you,” Harry squeaks out, and Louis smiles at him as his resolve softens just a touch. 

“I love you more.” Louis says, sure, running his thumb over Harry's jawline while the bigger man preens. “Now come up here. You can stand.” 

Harry raises himself up, holding on to the bed to stabilise himself and wincing when his knee cricks. Harry eyes the candles on the bed as he comes to stand between Louis' spread legs, no longer shivering the way he had been when he just came in. 

Louis pulls Harry's pants down, revealing his cock where he’s just started thickening up, before reaching for the gag and the rubber ball. He stands as well, keeping his head up deliberately so the two or three extra inches Harry has over him seem like less. Harry staggers backwards to accommodate him, hunching his back and tilting his head down. Louis reaches forward to take one of his hands into his own, depositing the black ball into his palm. Harry curls his fingers around it when Louis lets him go, moving his arms behind his back and holding them there. Louis smiles at the gesture before bringing the heart-shaped ball to Harry's lips. He opens his mouth with a quiet whimper, allowing Louis to push the rubber between his teeth. He bites down on it gently as Louis secures the leather straps around his head, buckling it at the base of his skull. 

“Good?” Louis checks, and Harry huffs through his nose and nods, eyes swimming with an intense emotion. His jaw works where he licks against the heart, wetting it with his saliva. He’s somehow already managed to start drooling, so Louis brings a hand up to swipe away the wetness gathering at the side of his mouth. Harry moans, eyelashes fluttering prettily.  

He looks so gone already, pupils blown so wide that the bright green of his eyes is barely visible. He watches Louis carefully when he reaches for two lengths of rope off the bed, turning his back to him when Louis uses a finger to gesture for him to do so.  

Louis goes about unwrapping the rope and looping it around Harry’s forearms, securing the knot to keep his arms held in the middle of his back. Next, he wraps the second piece around his chest and upper arms, repeating the action before knotting it tightly, leaving enough rope out of it to connect it to the rope holding his arms. He allows Harry to wiggle around to check if his circulation would be cut off. 

“Green?” Louis asks, and Harry mumbles something that sounds like  _yes_  and squeezes the ball in his right hand. Louis steps to the side when he’s satisfied, offering a muttered demand of, “Get on the bed.” 

Harry stumbles with his first steps, disoriented by his hands being restrained, and sits on the edge of the bed when he reaches it. Louis gives him a look. 

"On your front." he provides, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Harry bites his lip and starts shifting, deliberately slow, pulling his feet up unto the bed, shuffling back towards the few pillows at the head, twisting around to turn over. Louis watches him, allowing him to blatantly stall for a few more seconds before he growls and jumps onto the bed, using all his strength to grab Harry around his waist and flip him, throwing him to lie face down. Harry makes a surprised noise when Louis forcibly tucks his knees up under his body so his hips are raised, making a valiant attempt at squirming away as Louis grabs one of the thicker coils of rope. 

“Continue makin’ this worse for yourself,” Louis grits out in warning, to which Harry responds by stilling completely, breathing heavily through his nose. Louis unfurls the rope and winds the end of it around Harry's left thigh, cinching it before bringing it around his left calf. He pulls it tight so his foot pulls up off the bed a bit, repeating the action a few more times before knotting it in the middle, then again at the side. He does the same to Harry's other leg, effectively immobilising him. Harry fumbles around with the ball before he squeezes it, the movement catching Louis' attention, but he rights himself and squeezes again when he feels Louis stop. 

Louis slides a few fingers under the rope on Harry thigh to check how much slack he has nonetheless before pulling back. In this position, Harry's upper body is forced into the bed, his back held in an almost unnatural arch and his arse pushed high in the air. Louis makes a mental note not to keep him in the position for too long as he runs his hands over his smooth bum cheeks. 

Louis pulls his hands back before landing two harsh smacks on both cheeks simultaneously, and Harry yells behind the gag, jerking in his restraints. His cock kicks where it’s hanging between his legs, and his arms twist in the rope in a way that’s bound to mark him. Louis does it again and Harry strains, attempting to reach down and shield his arse, but because of how Louis has him tied, he can’t quite reach. 

“You’ve made some poor choices today, boy.” Louis scolds, no real heat behind his words, but it makes Harry whimper nonetheless. He brings his hands down again and slaps him harder, pink handprints blooming against Harry's milky skin as he tries to scramble away. Louis' quick, though, and grabs him by his feet to pull him to the edge of the bed. He hadn’t needed to: Harry can’t go anywhere, but he wants the boy to feel trapped, caged in and helpless. That way he’ll slip quicker and offer up his submission to Louis way easier. 

As it is, he’s straining himself to look over his shoulder at Louis, his eyes blown and glazed over where Louis can just barely see the side of his face smushed against the pillow. Louis sort of regrets not putting a blindfold on him, to get him more on edge, but he’s a sucker for watching Harry's eyes as he’s brought down into his subspace and would prefer seeing the effect he has on him. 

Louis rakes his nails down Harry bum before reaching between his own feet where he’s squatting, picking up the box of matches and one of the candles, making sure to hold them away from Harry as he strikes a match and lights the wick. The stick starts melting almost immediately and Louis holds it up straight, allowing the wax to pool at the top. 

“This is a bit new for us, lad.” Louis mutters, and Harry twists his neck further so he can see what Louis is doing. When his eyes land on the lit candle, he whines. “Squeeze the ball if this is okay.” 

Harry hesitates before squeezing the ball in his fist, keeping his fingers wrapped tightly around it. He’s watching Louis with a blissed-out expression, glancing at the candle once more as Louis starts to come closer again, only looking away when he’s out of his line of sight and he can’t turn his neck anymore.  

Louis holds the candle up over his Harry's back, waiting a minute to keep Harry on edge, and uses the time to take in the smooth line of his back covered in rope, his skin flushed against the black rope. He finally tilts the candle, watching the wax drip in a line to Harry's lower back. He tenses up when the first bit splatters against his skin, gasping through his nose, and flexing his hands. Louis doesn’t let up, keeping the stick tilted until Harry starts twisting in his binds, loudly wailing, “Fuck,  _fuck_ ,” but it’s muffled by the silicone.  

“Stop  _fucking_  moving, slag.” Louis warns, his voice taking on that hard edge to it that would make Harry's knees weak if he was standing. As it is, he only groans and squeezes his eyes shut. He stops his squirming as best as he can, but as Louis brings the candle closer to his bum, he starts shaking, unable to keep his body completely still. Louis doesn’t say anything about it, instead holding the candle up straight again.  

The blue wax has started hardening on Harry's skin, cracking a bit in places due to his relentless movements, and Louis has to admit that blue really is his colour. His skin is going a bit pink around the edges of the wax, making a nice contrast against the cyan-tinted mess splattered all over him. Harry is panting, the stuttered sound of it loud in the otherwise quiet room, and Louis waits until he starts to get his breathing back down to a relatively even and slowed pace before he brings the candle back, dripping it over his bum. 

“ _God_ ,” Harry garbles around the gag, legs tensing repeatedly like he’s trying to kick out, but he  _can’t_ _._ Thisrealisation seems to hit him hard because he slumps suddenly, hiccupping around an overwhelmed gasp. The muscles of his back clench and unclench with his breaths, the new wax drying in flakes. Louis continues to melt the candle over him, skirting the fleshy parts of his bum, but never quite covering the pink and purple splotches there. Harry whines every time he gets close to them, twitching like he can’t help it. 

Louis melts most of the candle and outs it before lighting a second, a green one, dripping it over the parts of Harry's sides that he can reach and that aren’t covered by rope. Harry's back arches as far as it can go as he pulls in a big breath, holding it until Louis pulls back again. Something drips onto Louis' toes where he’d unintentionally moved his foot is between Harry's spread thighs, and when he looks down, he finds a pool of pre-come on the sheets under Harry's cock, a few more stray drops falling from its tip unto Louis' foot.  

“My boy, always get so wet for me.” Louis smiles condescendingly, using his left hand to run up Harry's back, fingering the rope lightly. Harry jerks at the soft touch, whining quietly when Louis leans over to press a few quick kisses to the back of one of his hands.  

Louis uses the press of his lips to get Harry to relax before he pulls back, immediately holding the candle directly over Harry’s left bum cheek. The wax falls on one of the more bruised spots and Harry arches, breath seizing in his throat before he lets it out in a long, broken moan. His already sore bum must  _burn_  under the warm wax, but Louis continues, the green wax hardening against Harry's red skin. He switches cheeks, Harry whimpering loud when the candle splashes against the untouched skin.  

The stick is coming up to its end, so Louis drops a few final drops at the base of Harry's spine before blowing the flame out. The blue and green splashes across Harry's skin look fucking gorgeous; Louis wants to take a picture to memorialise how  _pretty_  it is, but his phone is in their bedroom where he’d left it before they’d gone out and he’d not leave Harry alone when he’s like this. He spares a glance to the part Harry's face he can see, finding it completely slack as if he’s fallen asleep, but his eyes are open and staring off into the space beside his head. He’s slumped in his position, or as slumped as he can be because the rope is still holding him up, his back rising and falling with panted breaths. The ball is still in his hand, though, and Louis smiles to himself with pride. 

“You did so well, honey.” Louis tells him softly, running his hands over the hard wax and scratching at it a bit, to hear and feel it crackle. Harry whimpers a few seconds after, sounding dazed. 

“Gonna get these off you now,” Louis informs. Harry perks up at that, blinking at the wall he’s still looking at. Louis' quick to add, “but you’re not quite done. You still have to make me come.”  

Louis stands from the bed, keeping a hand fisted in the knot in the middle of Harry's ropes to keep him grounded as he comes to the side of the bed. Harry watches him from under his wet lashes as he undoes the knots holding his legs first, pulling the ropes from off him and dropping them on the ground. The binds around his chest and arms go next- Louis has to use the scissors to cut the rope by his ribs because he  _refuses_  to take Harry out of the position, then he unbuckles the gag from his mouth and drops it on the ground as well. Harry works his jaw and licks his lips now that he has the freedom to and looks up to Louis. His pupils are blown all the way, his eyes black and glassy. Louis exhales roughly at the visual, his cock twitching in his jeans. He realises with a start that he’s still clothed from the waist down, so he unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down his legs, along with the pants. His dick springs free and bobs against his stomach, Harry's gaze now focused on the little bubble of slick forming at the slit. 

Louis ignores the hunger in his eyes and climbs back onto the bed, settling on his knees behind Harry once more. He hasn’t moved much other than to drop his hands to lie beside him and to close his legs a bit. His arse is still poised high and adorned in the wax, and Louis can’t help but take two handfuls of him and squeeze, cracking the wax on Harry's skin. 

“Fuck,” Harry rasps, his voice rough from yelling, pushing up onto his arms forearms shakily.  

Louis  _hmphs_  before spanking him, right over the wax, and Harry curses loudly, jerking away from him. Louis holds with a hand on his hip and brings his other hand down three times on the opposite side, harder each time. 

"No!” Harry gurgles out, trying to wrench away from Louis' hands, but Louis digs his nails in to his waist, tearing a sob from Harry.  

"No?" Louis asks, slapping him harder on the other cheek, and Harry cries out. "I don't believe I gave you a say in the matter." 

“ _Daddy_ ,” Harry gasps out, and Louis becomes painfully aware of the fact that he hasn’t heard that word all night. His cock gives a valiant twitch, and he needs to get it in his boy  _now_ , before he blows all over his thighs and ruins the whole night. 

Louis stops spanking him, then, and Harry pulls in a shuddered breath. Most of the wax has fallen off and Louis can see that he’s bruising more now, the skin going blotchy and mottled from the constant attention. He reaches blindly behind him for the bottle of lube, flicking it open and coating his fingers liberally in it before discarding it again. 

He uses his clean hand to pull Harry’s bum cheeks apart and Harry's whines, his pink rim fluttering around nothing. 

"Such a pretty hole." Louis compliments absently, bringing a slick finger to circle his entrance before pushing it in. 

Harry sucks in a big breath and arches, his back bowing prettily as he welcomes the intrusion. Louis slides in a second finger soon after, happy to find Harry still stretched from their quickie earlier on in the day. A third finger joins them when Harry begs him for it, and he spreads them apart to get him fully ready for his cock. 

When Louis deems him ready he pulls the fingers out, straightening up to bring his cock to his entrance. Harry twitches like he wants to brace back, but he doesn’t, and Louis rewards him by pressing forward, sheathing the head of his cock in Harry's body. Harry inhales at the slick stretch, fisting his hands around the fitted sheet. 

Louis pushes just enough to get the first inches of his cock in him before he stops, and it takes Harry longer than he’d thought it would to realise that he’s no longer moving. 

“Huh,” Harry asks, twisting his body to look at Louis with a confused look, his brows scrunched up. 

“You’ll be taking over from ‘ere, love.” Louis tells him, his voice gone gravely from how much restraint he’s using not to fuck Harry through the mattress. Harry doesn’t say or do anything for a while, looking at Louis with this slightly panicked expression until Louis realises he doesn’t know what he’s to do. 

“Fuck yourself on my cock.” He instructs. “Go slow.”  

Harry looks relieved at being given a direct order and he starts pressing back onto Louis' prick, taking him deeper. He takes him half-way and manages to do so slowly before Louis shifts, tilting his hips down a bit and aiming for Harry's prostate. Harry fucks all the way back with a gasp when he finds it, his body sucking him in almost all the way. Louis pinches his hip. 

“Slow down, or ’m pulling out and sending you t’bed without coming.” 

Harry stills completely at that, pausing to take a deep breath in and resuming after a few seconds. He presses back so slowly that Louis would barely be able to pick up the movement if he hadn’t been able to  _feel_  it, the non-visible pull of Harry's body around him.  

Harry has started shaking again, trying his hardest to go as slow as Louis wants him to. Louis holds on to his hip to steady him.  

“Good lad,” he praises, and Harry clenches around the width of his cock as his hips meets his sore arse. The light tan of his skin stands out against the colours on Harry's arse: the remainder of the blue and green wax, the bruises that have deepened in colour. Louis' hipbones press against some of the sore spots and Harry trembles, panting. 

“I don’t think you’re done,” Louis reminds him, and Harry whimpers before moving forward, pulling back off Louis' cock just as slowly as he’d taken it in. He pushes back down as soon as he feels the ridge on Louis' dickhead tugging against his rim, and Louis observes him carefully, hips twitching with the urge to thrust. Harry does it over and over again, still going slowly, and Louis watches him work himself up, choking around moans at the sensation of Louis' cock so big and solid in him. 

Louis tightens his grip on Harry's waist before slamming his own hips forward, taking Harry by surprise and fucking a high-pitched squeak out of his mouth. Louis takes over fully, then, fucking Harry fast and hard, pulling him back to meet his thrusts. 

“ _Lou_ ,” Harry whines, and Louis chooses that moment to bring a big hand down on Harry's bum, startling a warbled yell out of him. He does it again, and again, and again, and Harry wails, trying futilely to get away from him. Louis holds him tighter with his other hand and spanks him on every other stroke, making Harry cry out again.  

"Y’just ‘ave t’lie there and take it, huh? Like the little fuck doll that y’are," Louis grunts, and Harry whines, arms shaking below him. Louis gives up the spanking to hold onto Harry's waist properly, dicking into him harshly. 

"You like it when I fuck you like this, huh?" Louis asks breathlessly, "Like it when I ruin you, break you apart?" 

Harry tries to answer, tries to shout  _yes_ ,  _yes_  but Louis tilts his hips again, driving  _hard_  into his prostate, and he moans instead, fisting the sheets. Louis makes sure to hold the position, hips slapping against the bruised flesh of Harry's bum and doing nothing to soothe the burn. He’s starting to slip deeper, shutting his eyes tightly and hanging his head limply as Louis continues to fuck him.  

"Ah, L-Loueh,  _please_." he stutters with each thrust, trying to brace himself against Louis but he can’t, not really. “Shit.  _Shit_ , Daddy.” 

Louis continues to fuck helpless little sounds and pleas out of his boy, working him over with his cock. Harry's body is covered in rope marks and sweat, his muscles rippling under his flushed skin, his bum still a mottled mess of wax and bruises. He’s so pretty. 

Louis slaps his hips against him harder. “Love having you like this, Harry. Love  _claiming_  you.” 

Harry whines, “Ohhhh, g-god,” He starts clenching hard around Louis, who growls at the pressure around his dick. He pushes against it and continues to fuck him, going as fast as he can. Harry steadily gets louder, sounding strained and breathless with each new sound. 

“Ohhhh, my f-  _god_!” Harry cries, and Louis' thighs are burning, but he doesn’t dare stop. "Please, please  _Daddy_ \- Fuck, fuckfuck.  _Please_ -"  

Harry suddenly cuts himself off with a desperate gasp, body going taut as Louis continues to pound into him, nails dug deep into his hips. Harry chokes on one last expletive before his upper body drops to the bed heavily, his arms giving out under his weight. 

When Louis had first witnessed Harry do this, he had worried sick that he'd overwhelmed his boy to the point that he wasn't feeling good anymore. When he saw how worked up Harry got, his pleasure seemingly reaching its peak, only for him to just collapse and essentially pass out, Louis had been confused and concerned. That first time, Harry had had to shakily explain to him that after being so tense for so long, trying to be good for him and chasing his own pleasure, his body and mind to just melt to putty once he hits a certain depth in his subspace. He's got no fight left in him, no energy, nothing. He’s like a puppet with his strings cut. He’s just barely able to lie there and let Louis do what he wants with him. He'd also assured him that it's one of the best feelings in the world.

Louis still doesn't understand it fully, and Harry doesn’t get like this often, but he knows now not to panic. He just fucks into Harry at the same brutal pace, delighting in the quiet and uncontrolled, breathy whimpers coming from him with each of his thrusts. 

Harry's release is known to creep up on him when he's like this. When all his muscles relax and he’s allowing Louis to use his body, his orgasms always take them both by surprise. Harry's not focused on that, is the thing. The only warning Louis gets, most times, is a choked off sound and the feeling of Harry tightening around him weakly before he starts coming.  

Now, Harry goes almost completely silent, only a change in his breathing as his cock starts oozing, rivulets of spunk leaking from the tip and dripping down onto the bed. The orgasm is fucked right out of him with how Louis only doubles his efforts in thrusting, making Harry’s jaw drop in a silent scream. His hole flutters around Louis' thick cock without his control, and Louis has to come to a stop with a soft hiss to prevent his own orgasm from overtaking him. 

Harry starts working his hips back in small movements as soon as he’s done coming, making these soft, disconnected sounds of pleasure. He isn’t in control of any of it. He sounds wrecked, and looks even more so with his hair sticking up in different directions and Louis can't help but stare at his boy in wonder. 

He starts fucking into Harry with controlled movements, then, trying to finish himself off. He’s close, being brought closer to the edge by the warm clutch of Harry's body around him and the fucking sounds he keeps making.  

This is the only time that Harry's not talking or doing something to get someone’s attention. This far down, Harry's just lying there for him, not even holding himself up, just being a toy for Louis. 

The thought makes Louis suck in a breath, his orgasm building with a suddenness that makes his head rush. His boy, being a perfect little fucktoy for him to use.  _Fuck_. Three, four more pumps of his hips and Louis stills, biting his lip hard to muffle a shout before he starts coming in Harry, pushing his seed deep into him with the tip of his cock when his hips jerk. 

Harry finally stops moving, satisfied with himself now that he’s felt Louis' release start to paint his insides. Louis grunts as his vision whites out a bit, and he just barely manages to keep himself upright as he empties himself into his boy. His  _fucktoy_. He shivers and his prick pushes out a new spurt of cum at the thought. 

Louis pulls out as soon as he can manage to, slowly so as to not hurt Harry, turns him and gathers him into his arms. It’s the first time in hours he’s seen Harry's full face. He’s missed it, so he presses kisses all over it as he tells Harry how good he’s been, how proud he is of him. Harry's face is wet under his lips, his body limp where he’s sprawled in his lap, and he whimpers quietly whenever Louis shifts. His eyes stayed closed throughout it all, his lids fluttering like he wants to open them, but he can’t just yet. 

The first step of the aftercare is taking Harry out the spare room. It’s the unofficial way of saying that the scene is over, since they don’t ever scene in their actual bedroom. He presses a final kiss to his forehead before ducking close to his ear. 

“I gotta take you to bed, Harry,” Louis whispers to him, not expecting a response but warning him that he’ll be moving soon. Louis manoeuvres them so that he can stand with Harry in his arms, holding him to his chest bridal style and taking the short trip down the walkway to their bedroom, using his back to push the door open. Harry manages to push his face into Louis' neck, breathing softly and mouthing against the skin. 

He flicks the light on in the adjoined bathroom and enters, praying that the bottle of olive oil and the cotton balls he’s going for are exactly where he thinks there are. They are, and he grabs them in one hand before going back into the room. 

He drops the oil and the cotton on the bedside cabinet before he sets Harry on the bed as gently as he can manage, lying him on his front and leaving his limbs out to flop however they want. He keeps a hand high on Harry's back and stretches over to the mini-fridge beside the bed, grabbing two of the little bottles of water from it and setting it on the bedside cabinet with the other things. He pulls a cotton ball out of the pack and soaks it in the olive oil before sitting on the edge of the bed beside Harry's legs. 

There are only a few spots of wax still on Harry's bum and Louis works to clean them off, using the oil to melt the pieces of wax off his skin. He continues to tell Harry how well he’s doing, telling him whenever he’s moving to a new spot. Harry remains mostly unresponsive through it all, only whining when Louis touches a more tender spot. 

The beside cabinet drawer has baby wipes and aloe ointment and he reaches over for those, too, cleaning up where Harry has started leaking down his thighs. Harry groans when Louis rubs the cream on his bum, then again for some of the sorer rope marks on his back, and it’s the first real sign that he’s coming to. Louis apologises and tries to work gently. 

When Louis replaces the wipes, oil, cotton and ointment on the cabinet, he climbs up to the top of Harry's body and pulls him towards him, turning him a bit on his side to pull his head onto his lap. 

“Come back to me, love.” Louis coaxes, holding the first water bottle near him on standby. Louis rocks him gently until Harry groans and scrunches up his face, before his eyes finally open. 

“Daddy?” Harry croaks out, furrowing his brows and blinking slowly. He tilts his head towards Louis' stomach, not really looking at him, and shifts closer. 

“Right here, Harry.” Louis smiles, “Look at me, please? I wanna see your beautiful eyes.” 

Harry starts to go pink on his cheeks at the compliment almost instantly, but he takes a minute to actually look up at Louis. When he does, the green of his eyes makes something warm flow through Louis, even through his still-wet lashes and hooded lids. Harry's frown deepens, however, and he looks away. 

Louis watches him worriedly as hee opens his mouth to say something, clearly struggling to find the words. Louis cards his fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him. 

“I’m sorry.” Harry finally whispers, his voice rough from overuse. Louis gawks at him. 

“Hey. Hey, stop that. You were good, you’re always so good Harry.” Louis says quickly, pulling him closer. “You did something I didn’t quite like today, and you’ve made it up to me. You don’t need to be sorry.” 

“I wasn’t- Wasn’ talkin’ ‘bout you.” Harry says, and it’s Louis' turn to frown. Harry scrunches up his nose and looks up at him, still not fully back to himself, but his eyes are clearer. “Wanna ‘pologise to Zed.” 

“Oh,” Louis exhales, understanding what Harry was trying to say.  He’d been worried that Harry was going start dropping, that he was still too caught up in his head, and Louis’ glad to know that that’s not the case. 

Harry giggles, lightening the mood. Louis runs his fingers through Harry's hair some more. “How do you feel?” 

“Can’t feel me arse.” Harry says immediately, slurring a bit. Louis barks out a laugh. 

“Don’ worry about that. You’ll feel it all tomorrow.” Louis laughs, and Harry offers him a weak smile. 

“Ser’ously though. I feel- good. Floaty. Light,” Harry hums, stops to swallow and lick his lips. Louis holds the water bottle to Harry's mouth, watching as Harry parts his lips and gives him a loaded look, the  _thank you_  he didn’t say clear in his gaze as he starts sips from it slowly. He’s looking more like himself now, less fucked-out and more calm, more present. He lets an appreciative moan slip when he takes the last sip of the water and Louis pulls the empty bottle back. 

“Was the scene okay?” Louis asks, and Harry perks up, eyes widening comically. 

“The candles,” he starts breathlessly, before shivering in Louis' hold. Louis laughs. “The fucking  _candles_ , L. We gotta do that again.” 

“I’d plan to use them again, yeah.” Louis chuckles, and Harry smiles brightly. 

“The whole scene was great, thank you.” Harry tells him. “Wish you’d let me see you, though. Missed your stupid mug.” 

“Oi!” Louis complains. Harry leans his head over and kisses Louis' tummy in an apology. 

“I missed your face, too. You’ll definitely be on your back next time.” Louis reassures, and Harry bites his lip at the mention of a  _next time_. 

Louis keeps them where they are until Harry's eyes start drooping, at which point he rearranges them so that Harry's on his side before he slides up behind him. Harry curls into himself drowsily as Louis spoons him, keeping his own hips away from Harry’s arse, and he kisses the back of his neck when his breathing stats slowing. Louis allows himself to shut his eyes as soon as it does, and he falls asleep. 

 **_____________________________________**   **_______________________________**  

 

Louis wakes slowly, noticing first the lack of warmth in his arms, then the soft, murmured voice of someone just outside the bedroom. Louis groans and rolls over onto his back, wondering where Harry is, until he registers that the voice he’s hearing  _is_  Harry. 

“ _Yeah, mate. ’m not sure when exactly yet, but I’ll tell you when I find out._ ” Harry's saying, clearly trying to be quiet. There’s a pregnant pause before Harry speaks again.  

“Yeah, I know. Love you too, Zed.”  

Louis smiles when he realises that Harry's already gone ahead and called Zayn, not even waiting for him to get up and remind him to. 

Harry comes back into the bedroom shortly after, blushing down to his neck when he notices that Louis' awake and has heard his end of the conversation. He clambers back up into the bed and climbs onto Louis, lying down on him. Louis can’t really breathe, but he’s grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. 

Neither of them says anything for a few seconds, Harry clearly revelling Louis' silence about the phone call as he pushes his head in the crook of Louis' neck. But Louis just can’t help but break it. 

“I  _love_  you,” Louis tells him breathlessly, like he’s seventeen again and trying to convey to him that he  _like_  likes him, that he doesn’t just have a crush. Harry groans against his neck and grumbles out something that sounds like  _shut up_.

**Author's Note:**

> I know some of you guys aren't such big fans of BDSM but I live, eat and breathe BDSM so pls put up with it. I changed the characters and plot in this so many times I'm not even sure which fic this is anymore.  
> My kink for this fic is L and H calling eachother husband/spouse/partner whatever.  
> Here's my main [tumblr](http://dissocihate.tumblr.com/) and a list of my [other blogs](http://dissocihate.tumblr.com/others)


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